The Gunman
by AngelsandDemons1
Summary: Screaming Fans, Paparazzi and...stalkers? When girlfriend of Teen Sensation Dylan Johns gets entwined in the world of showbiz. There are people who will stop and nothing for revenge. But what could brother band Rock/DROP have done to offend anyone?
1. An Intoduction

Sometimes, it's hard being me. Knowing that the person I love is half-way across the world, with _thousands-upon-thousands_ of screaming girls chasing after him 24/7. Well done Abi, do you know how to pick 'em? Thus is the life I lead, involved with one of the most sought after guys in the _world_ right now? Yeah, I'm with Dylan Johns. But, sometimes that world can become distorted. It is full of power hungry demons that would stop at nothing to get revenge. Even death.

* * *

"Abi, I have to ask you something." Dylan's brown eyes bore into mine as we lay on his family couch. It was strange to think that I was lying down with a person that so many girls fantasize about being with. But, just sitting her with him. I felt complete. Is it that I was just so in love; or that his mom makes the best lasagne you will ever imagine. I couldn't imagine a happier, friendlier, _loving_ place to be than with Dylan and his family. I was so happy, contempt even; even though I knew that in a few weeks time, Dylan and his whole entire family would be uprooted for a massive world tour. He and his three brothers formed 'teen sensation's Rock/DROP. (**A/N Thanks To Jon who came up with the band name, I owe you bwiscwit**)

Mike, the oldest at twenty-one; was lead guitarist and shared vocals. I loved this guy; he was so much like my big brother. I could tell him anything. When I was growing up next door to the guys, he used to take me to his room and teach me guitar...and tell me about embarrassing things his brothers had done. Josh, the second oldest. He just turned twenty. He was basically lead vocals...although none of the band would admit it. A very shy, cryptic person was Josh. He was the one I had a crush on when I was growing up. I could only smile about it now, as I was heavily involved with his younger brother. Then, in third place came Dylan. Dylan was my sweetheart at seventeen-going-on-eighteen. We worked quite well, seeing as I'm turning seventeen this fall. He once compared us to Rolph and Liesl from 'the sound of music'. Although I was quick to correct him by saying we weren't Austrian, and that he wasn't a Nazi. At least, I hope he's not a Nazi. Because, that would suck. Dylan played about every instrument on God's green earth. The cool ones anyway. He played guitar, bass, piano, drums, saxophone, flute, digery-doo and the baritone. He can also sing. Like the clappers. He always makes me sing with him. It gets really annoying. If I didn't love him as much as I do, I would have told him to shove it ages ago. Last but certainly not least was Paul. Paul was my age and my best friend growing up. He did everything else his brothers weren't doing at that particular moment. I sometimes felt quite sorry for him, as I don't think he's respected as much as the others. He's not in the back ground. Not in any sense, but I think because of his ripe old age of sixteen; people patronize him. Which is scary, because if they patronize _him, _wouldn't they patronize_ me?_

Dylan's anticipant breathing brought me back into reality. I looked at his face, trying to read it. It was impossible; no wonder he had been in so many movies. "Abi." I laughed, he was so intense! The look of concentration on his face was laughable. Oh wait, I did laugh. Oops. "Yeah" I said while trying to suppress another laugh. "Are you okay with this?" he said. Kissing my forehead. "With what?" I questioned kissing him back. He looked distracted. I couldn't understand why. "With us leaving for a year" He said in a tone which would question my grade point average. "Oh well, I...uh..." I looked down. I wouldn't let him know how much his leaving hurt me. I know it was an unavoidable part of our relationship but, it still hurt. "Yeah, I guess." I said flatly finally meeting his gaze. He looked so pained. "Don't worry about me though." I said reassuringly. "Just worry about messing up on stage, okay?" I said, trying to bring some amusement to the conversation. But, strangely enough, it was already there all of a sudden...in his eyes. "Abi, you don't have to feel this way. You know that, don't you?" He played with a few strands of my hair. I smiled and took his hand and started tracing his palm with my fingers. "Yeah, but it's hard not to, you know?" I shrugged and he nodded, contemplating something. "I can assure you, you won't feel this way for the entire time we're gone." I cocked my head to the side. Again, trying to read his face. "Dylan, what are you talking about?" "I'm talking about _you _and _me_ and you coming on tour with _us..._" He bit his lip, looking hopeful.

Wow, wow, wow. Wait a minute shall we? It's bad enough that Dylan and Paul were missing a whole year of school, what would they say about me missing one as well? And my parents? What would they do when I'm gone? Well, I suppose they have my brother. But he's Josh's age and pretty independent. "What about everything here?" I asked, summarising my thoughts into one simple sentence. "Taken care of. School; done. Your parents; done. Your boyfriend...Oh, wait; he's actually _in_ the tour!" he said laughing. I couldn't believe how easy he made it sound. As if uprooting myself and leaving for a year was that..._simple? _I had to think about this. But, then again. It's a whole year away from school, homework, arguments with my parents. And a whole lot of Dylan. It seems like a brilliant plan after all. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I sighed and took it out. I had a text off and unknown number. Strange. I could sense Dylan reading over my shoulder, I was about to lecture him about people's privacy when I actually read the text.

Dear Abigail, So nice to hear you'll be coming on tour with us. Just in case you're wondering who this is; my names The Gunman. If you're unfamiliar with me, just ask your little boyfriend there. He knows _all_ about me. Don't you Dylan? Well, until the tour then Princess. And remember, I'll be watching.

I was suddenly very glad that Dylan was reading over my shoulder.


	2. The Gunman

**A/N Hey, I'm sorry the first chapter sucked): ...I needed a start to really get into the story. Please review, it would be much appreciated. Keeping In Mind This Is My First Story..But, Dont Worry..Have Really Good Chapters Already Written..Just Have To Write The Majority Now :(**

* * *

I stared at my phone. I heard Dylan breathing heavily, his head on my shoulder. The text was frightening, and yet; I couldn't click away. Who was this 'Gunman' what did he want with me? Panic washed over me. How. Did. He. Get. My. Phone. Number? My internal panic was disrupted my Dylan shouting for his dad, Ian.

"What, what is it?" Ian said, concern displayed in every corner of his face. Dylan grabbed the phone from my hands and tossed it to his father. He read it quickly, before calling the rest of his family into the sitting room. He forwarded the text from my phone to his and then deleted it from my inbox. "Danielle, it seems the Gunman has decided to make himself known again." A hand flew to Dylan's mothers face. The rest of the boys exchanged fearful glances and groaned. "Josh, will you alert the police please?" the second eldest nodded and walked out of the room. I just couldn't wrap my head around this. I listened intently as Ian explained who the Gunman was and what he was doing. "The Gunman is essentially a stalker. Swearing revenge on my family and leaving a string of empty threats and police calls in his wake." Danielle walked over and placed her arm over my shoulders. It wasn't until then that I knew that I was shaking. "He's a stalker." I processed the information. "But, how did he know about me coming on tour with you? How did he know my _phone number?_" I asked, my voice cracking towards the end of the sentence. "I don't know." He shook his head. "I honestly can't answer that." I felt another set of arms around me; I turned my head to see Mike, comforting me. But, really I knew that _they_ were the ones who needed comforting. "So what does this mean?" I tried steadying my voice. I walked to the window, replaying the last ten minutes in my head.

Why would anyone want to stalk this loving, kind family? Why would anyone want to _threaten_ this loving, kind family? It just didn't make sense to me; big stars got stalked. Big like, A-list celebs got stalked. But why them? Why me? What could I have done? I shook my head and placed a hand on the glass. I sighed and closed my eyes, it seemed impossible. Just, un-real. "Abi, would you like to go home and pack?" I whirled round to see the Johns family stood in a line, all of them with their arms folded across their chests, like a barrier between them and me. I was freaked out, really freaked out. But what annoyed me the most is that, Dylan hadn't said one word to me since I got the sinister text. "What?" I asked, dumbfounded that they still wanted to spend the next year of my life with them. Even though, I may have dragged them deeper into the world of The Gunman. "Well, don't you want to come any more?" Dylan asked, this time he really did look pained. I walked forward and took one of his hands. "Of course I still want to come silly, it's just..." I trailed off, not wanting to look any of them in the eye. "Just, what?" Paul questioned me. Crap, now I'd have to some up everything I was feeling in this moment. "Don't you think that me coming would put you in any more danger?" I asked, trying not to be blatantly obvious that I'm crapping myself over this. "Abigail, _you _will not be in any danger." Dylan pulled me into a hug. "_I promise."_ I felt nervous, of course I would still go on tour with them; but I wouldn't feel at ease.

The nods and words of promise melted away at the sight of ice blue eyes bearing into my face from across the street.


	3. Goodbye

**(A/N Okay, This will be the third chapter in three days, bearing in mind I have already written one of the more juicy chapters with the Gunman. Yes, he makes a physical appearence. But, not yet... 'Fearless' belongs to Taylor Swift. But, other than that, ALL the characters are mine. Shame, I know. God, I think I should just stop. Please Review!)**

I woke with a start. Well, I say it was a start it, but it was really my mom yelling at me to get up. Now. I sighed and stretched my arms begrudgingly. I reluctantly lifted myself off the bed and shuffled over to my window. I kept it locked shut since that night at Dylan's. I opened up the curtains to see a big tour bus parked two doors down. I smiled to myself and shut the curtains again; so I could get dressed. I struggled to find something suitable, as most of my clothes were packed. I flicked through my CD collection; trying to pick out something to drown my excitement. I then thought that nothing could drown out my excitement, so I picked a CD that I was pretty obsessed with at the moment.

I slid 'Fearless' by Taylor Swift into my DVD player and pressed play. I was suddenly engulfed with the sound of Rock/Country. I tried to lose myself in the music, slowing down or speeding up my actions to match the drum beat. But when 'Should've Said No' came on, I had to sing. It would have been a crime not to. I started thinking about Dylan, and the Gunman. I wondered about the link. His reason for stalking them. I was quite upset about the lack of contact I'd had off Dylan in the last two days. Normally, we always text each other good-morning and good-night. But, I was lucky if I had a 'Hello' off him. I put it down to the stress of the tour. I suspected he was going to be like this a lot.

Before I finished the first chorus, my brother was banging on my door. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I turned down the music and went to open my door. "What?" I snapped. He looked at my flushed appearance and laughed. I shook my head and fought to keep the smile off my face. He shoved open the door and walked into my room. He flung himself onto my bed and picked up one of the pillows perched on top of my suitcase. He started smoothing the soft cotton of the cover. I stood bewildered. What the hell? I stepped over to my 20 year old brother and sat next to him. He pulled me into him. I moulded myself to the shape of him, letting my head rest on his chest. He placed his arm around me. We sat there for half an hour. Not saying anything, just sitting. Letting the silence do the talking for us.

When I finally stood and broke contact he looked up at me with big blue tearing eyes. "I know." I said softly. "I'll miss you too, James." A lump rising in my throat. I couldn't cry. I wouldn't cry. He smiled and wiped his cheek. "Love you." I added. He stood up and hugged me again. "Love you too, sis." We laughed at the sincerity of the situation, until we heard our mom shouting up the stairs for me. He grabbed my suitcase off my bed and handed me the pillows. I couldn't believe how nice James was being! We carried my stuff downstairs and left it by the front door. I could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes at the feigned laughter coming from what I assumed were guests. I opened the door with James behind me, to see Danielle and Ian sat having breakfast forced down their throats. I mouth 'sorry' at them before grabbing a piece of toast as it popped out of the toaster.

We made light conversation while my mother checked I had everything. Then mom gave me... 'The Travel Bag'. This had my passport in it, foreign currency, some documents and some Mentos. I tucked it into my big bag and said my final goodbyes to my parents.

I refuse to cry, I _refuse_ to cry.

Screw it, I'm going to cry. I wiped the tears from my eyes and hugged everyone one last time. I waved as they watched us go. Ian, dragging my suitcase across the sidewalk. I laughed as Danielle dumped most of her breakfast wrapped up in a napkin in her trash can. She led me into the house as Ian put my stuff on the bus. The boys all looked very keyed up when I greeted them. Dylan met me with a kiss good-morning and an apologetic hug for his non-contact over the past two days. I told him not to worry and to forget all about it. Ian took us through the plan; I could tell from the boys' faces that they had heard this plan a million times before. And that this was solely for my benefit. I made a note of all the place names. Excited we were doing Europe before America.

First stop on the tour. Spain.

When Ian had finished telling me the plan, Dylan asked me up to his room. It looked oddly empty. Without all the posters and the clothes strewn all over the floor. I always took pride in my impeccable bedroom Dylan on the other hand, did not. He sat me down on the bed and told me to close my eyes. Excitement bubbled up inside me, what was he doing? What would he do? I felt a soft kiss on my neck, and then something cold. My eyes flew open in a flutter. My hands flew up to my neck. My fingers met a cold silver chain which drooped down to the top of my chest. I moved my fingers down the chain until they met a cold, silver ring. I looked down at the ring. It was Dylan's favourite, the one he wore every day. Well, I guess not every day now. I smiled and turned round. He opened his mouth to say something but I stopped him with mine. He quickly kissed me back. I began losing all tracks of time and of place. All I could see was Dylan and I in his spacious bedroom 'making-out' as the kids say nowadays.

A knock on the door brought us reluctantly back to our senses. Mike popped his head round the door to announce we were ready to leave. We walked down the stairs and clambered onto the bus. The sun shining brilliantly in the sky was blinding. Very disorienting, but not disorienting enough to distract me from my one train of thought. And it wasn't Dylan. It was a mysterious man called the Gunman. Intent on making me a walking wreck. The boys cheered as we drove down the street and onto the freeway. But one line stuck in my head as we drove into the next year of our lives.

"..._Remember, I'll be watching..."_

Something told me, he was.


	4. Praise of the Highest Kind

**(A/N Fear not readers! The Gunman **_**is **_**in this chapter, as more than just a memory. But, you have to make a promise to me and to your computer that you'll keep reading. C'mon, this is my first story, please let me know how I'm doing and how I can improve! You can do that by clicking the review button... that wasn't a hint at all. -_-)**

"Thank you Madrid!" The boys bowed. "Gracias, Amigos! Gracias por llegada! Thank you for coming!" They ran around the stage. Picking up gifts from the fans in the audience. The stage lights flashed all different colours, their logo flashing on the multiple screens around the arena. "Gracias, tanto!" Josh slipped on some of the confetti on the stage, sliding down the catwalk. The whole audience erupted into laughter and applause. As Josh strummed a chord on his guitar as he finished sliding. "Buenas noches Madrid! Thank you so much! Gracias! Goodnight!" And the lights flashed one more time before going out completely.

The boys came off on a high. They were instructed to leave their instruments on stage, for collection later. They buzzed all around Danielle, Ian and I. I couldn't believe we made it. But, there they are, the boys, coming off stage from their first concert on a yearlong tour. Wow, it sounded so momentous. But, really everyone was so laid back. They all knew what was happening where they were going and when, so essentially I just tagged along when I could. The boys joked about having to translate every sentence or so into Spanish for fear of offending any non-English speaking fans at that concert. I sat quietly in their dressing room, letting the buzz die down until instrument collection and the meet&greet.

Paul came and sat with me on the sofa, he stretched his legs over my lap. I normally would have protested, but seeing he had just done a two-and-a-half hour long concert, I let it slide with a wink. As Ian came in to congratulate the boys on a great show, my phone started ringing. I stood up quickly; letting Pauls feet slide onto the floor. I opened the door and headed to the girls bathroom.  
"Hello?" I answered, a little breathless. Part of me was terrified to hear the answering voice.  
"Hey!" I exhaled in relief. Oh good, it was James.  
"Hey, you okay?" I asked, wondering what was the cause of the phone call; I'd been away all of three days? I'd stayed away longer at friends houses.  
"Yeah, I'm good." I heard him cough. "We _were_ a little scared though...." I alerted myself immediately.  
"What? Why?" I asked, panic rising in my voice. I walked over to the sink. The pale pink-peachy colour of the counter looked cold. I placed a hand on it, and brought it up to my face. My face was warm, very warm. I looked up into the mirror. The person who met my eyes didn't look like me at all, they looked tired, sullen even.  
"Some guy left a frightening message on our answering machine, asking after you. We thought it was one of your friends playing a prank." He sounded as if he didn't care. Or if he did in the past, he was _way_ past that point now. I shuddered, the feeling draining out my face and eventually my body.  
"What did it say?" I said slowly, over emphasizing every word.  
"Oh, hold on, I'll play it for you." I could feel the strength leaving my legs as I told him to wait a minute before playing it. I ran back into the dressing room. The boys and their dad were messing around, joking and laughing but stopped when they saw my face. Dylan stood up when he saw the tears welling up in my eyes.  
"Abi, Wha-" He stopped when I raised my hand. He stood in the middle of the room, looking around to his brothers, exchanging confused glances. I fumbled with my phone to put it on loud speaker.  
"Okay James, play the message." I spoke into the phone. I meant it to sound confident, but I had lost all resilience and my throat burned.  
"Kay, Abi. One sec." I heard him fumbling with the answering machine and then I heard the beep.

"Hello, Princess." A chill went down my spine, and back up again. Josh spluttered the water that he was drinking. The tape carried on...  
"Did you miss me? Yeah, I thought you would. I mean who wouldn't? Well, I hope you thought twice about those wretched boys. Because if you didn't, I may have to change your change your mind for you. Have you had many conversations about me, sweetheart? I bet you've thought about me though, haven't you? Thought about what I'm capable of. Well, let me tell you one thing now, darling. Whatever you thought, whatever you _dreamed _I'll surpass it. Just remember, I am your worst nightmare, I am worse than broken bones, Hell! I'm worse than PMT. And just think, I have a few things up my sleeve so be careful. We wouldn't want you to get hurt. Love and kisses, The Gunman." I breathed, looking at the family surrounding me. They pushed me into a chair and took my phone off me, to talk to James.  
"Wooh Abi! Freaky isn't it!" I heard him stammer when Ian bombarded him with questions. I turned my back to them and cried. I _knew_ this was a bad idea. I _knew_ he would be back to haunt me. Back to haunt _us. _But I refuse to cry in front of them.

Dylan must have seen my body shaking as he lifted my up and pulled me away. In the direction of the stage. He said we might as well collect the instruments. I wandered onto the stage and stopped in my tracks. It looked nothing like the stage of an hour ago. All the screens had gone, and they had just started taking away the catwalk. He led me into the middle of the stage and grabbed me by the waist. He started dancing with me.  
"I knew this day would come, Dylan, there's no music babe." I said mock sarcasm in my voice. Although I placed my hands around his neck and swayed to the imaginary beat with him.  
"What?" He questioned. "I need music to dance with my girlfriend, now?" he asked pretending to be outraged.  
"Well, the music would help. We're not all rock stars." I said earnestly.  
"Well, some of us are too smart to be rock stars." He said kissing my nose. I pouted at him, pretend sadness played across my face. He looked confused.  
"What?" he asked. I said nothing just rolled my eyes. It took him longer than I thought it would. But, in the end he cottoned on. He leaned forward, his breathe tickling my lips, but he pulled away, teasing. I groaned and fisted his hair playfully. He laughed and hugged me.  
"I can't remember the last time we were alone like this." He whispered in my ear.  
"Well, I know you can't always be there, so that's why you gave me the ring, right?" I asked, hoping, if I got it right, my reward would be a good one...  
"Yeah, sort of..." He trailed off, this confused me.  
"What other reason is there?" I asked, looking deep into his eyes. Trying to read the unreadable face.  
"Well, there's that and there's the fact that I love you." He kissed my cheek. "And that I wanted to show you how much I loved you." I giggled and removed one hand from his neck and fingered the ring.  
"I wouldn't want to give you a ring." I said. _He _looked confused this time. "No" I said laughing. "I'd want to give you something permanent...like me or something." I looked up hopefully.  
"Abigail, you are permanent." He said laughing. He leaned towards me, his soft lips just brushing mine when he pushed me away. He pushed me so hard that I flew a few feet across the floor, really hurting my stomach in the meantime.

"What the hell was that Dylan?" I demanded. He didn't say anything, in fact he shook his head. I saw him biting his lip as I saw what he was looking so intently at. What he pushed me away from.  
There was one of the lights from the rafters smashed on the floor. Right where I was standing.  
Dylan saved my life. I'd rather have a bruised stomach than death any day.

Dylan grabbed my hands and pulled me around the smashed glass. He asked me if I was hurt. I said no, but our attention was caught from something up in the top floor of the seats.

_*Clap. Clap. Clap*_

We both froze. Suddenly the temperature around us dropped, I began to shiver.

"I hate to ruin the moment..." It was _him_. He who left threatening messages on my phone. He who stalked Dylan. He who I hadn't been able to get off my mind for three weeks. "Actually, I love to ruin the moment." Dylan hissed. I nudged him in the ribs. He continued. I couldn't make out his features he was so far away. "Sorry about the light, I couldn't think of a better way to grab your attention. I thought a near death experience would do nicely." I just gawped at him. loosing all the strength in my body again, it was like he was draining me. "Anyway, I offer my congratulations to you, Dylan and your brothers. It was a very nice show. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But, don't worry, no killing tonight. Just teasing." He started to walk away. "Oh and by the way, I'd watch what Paul eats for the next few hours, Okay?" he turned and walked towards the exit.

I can't believe I just met the Gunman. And he didn't hurt me. Well, technically Dylan hurt me...but it was the Gunman's fault. We stared at each other for a few moments. Processing the last conversation. That was before we came to our senses.  
"Paul." We said together. We ran back to the dressing room, to prevent the omen that the Ginman had predicted.


End file.
